


Chasing Your Tail

by Drosselmeyer



Category: InuYasha - A Feudal Fairy Tale
Genre: Bittersweet, Eventual Romance, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Reunions
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-16
Updated: 2020-05-29
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:00:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23168905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Drosselmeyer/pseuds/Drosselmeyer
Summary: When an item up for auction offers Kagome a piece of her past, she jumps at the chance to hold onto it. But she may be getting more than she bargained for when that past bids against her and then follows her home...
Relationships: Higurashi Kagome/Sesshoumaru
Comments: 108
Kudos: 350
Collections: Fics in the Time of Coronavirus, SessKag Fluff - Hurt/Comfort





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mythicamagic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mythicamagic/gifts), [thetroll](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thetroll/gifts), [LadyoftheLemons (LadyOfTheLemons)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyOfTheLemons/gifts), [Ladygoshawk](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ladygoshawk/gifts).



Kagome couldn’t really say what possessed her to do it. But she did, she committed _,_ and now she would have to learn to live with that decision.

The smell of her own gathering sweat made her wrinkle her nose as she walked a little too quickly up to the auctioneer’s desk with her payment in hand.

“Higurashi?” the man asked.

Nodding, she held out her money, decidedly ignoring the way her palm glistened underneath the wad of cash. “That’s me.”

If he noticed her dampness slowly saturating the yen notes in her hand, the older gentlemen didn’t comment on it. With a kind smile, he simply took her money, marked something down on the papers before him, and pointed to her left.

“You can pick up your item through that door. Just ask for Jun.” He put her payment in a cash drawer and chuckled. “I haven’t seen a bidding war like that in quite some time.”

She laughed, the sound a bit too high-pitched for even her own ears. “Yeah, I guess I let the excitement get to me.”

As the auctioneer settled her purchase, Kagome glanced over her shoulder. There were eyes on her. She could _feel_ it. Closing her own eyes, she took a deep breath and tried to calm herself. This was a public space. She was surely safe in such a crowd.

She glanced over her shoulder again, trying to ignore the way her muscles twitched and tensed, ready to run.

“Ma’am?”

“Oh!” Kagome extended her hand, grasping the corner of a paper. In her paranoia she hadn’t heard the man talking to her. She laughed nervously again. “All that excitement. Sorry.”

Old eyes crinkled at the corners as he handed her a ticket. “It’s not uncommon, especially for first time buyers. But I hope you had a good experience.” He nodded to the door he had previously mentioned. “You certainly got a unique item.”

 _Unique doesn’t even begin to cover it._ A tight smile pulled at her face as she accepted the proof of her payment, and Kagome tried to ignore the feeling of eyes drilling a hole into her back. “Yeah, I suppose I did.”

Another smile. “Come back anytime.” Chuckling, the auctioneer settled back in his seat. “You and that young man certainly provided us all with a good bit of entertainment.” He nodded someplace over his shoulder. “He’s a tough one to beat. Been here before.”

Kagome swallowed and simply nodded, not able to speak. The old man had _no_ idea how true that statement really was.

“Thank you again.” Then, clutching the ticket in her hand like it was her lifeline, Kagome kept her eyes down on the floor as she made a beeline for the door that had been pointed out to her to claim her purchase.

She couldn’t have pretended to not notice the hard, golden glare following her if she had tried.

______________

She looked ridiculous.

Kagome cursed as she walked home. She had no one to be angry with but herself for not being able to hire a ride, having used the last of her money on her to outbid someone she probably shouldn’t have. And now? Now she couldn’t even glance over her shoulder to make sure sudden death wasn’t upon her.

An unholy mass of white fur was blocking her view.

“How on earth did he manage this?” she grumbled to herself, shifting the snowy pelt swallowing her whole.

It had taken her thirty minutes just to leave the auction house after picking up her item. Bigger than she had remembered it being, she had spent twenty of those minutes just trying to figure out how to carry the damn thing out before settling on trying to drape it around herself as _he_ had worn it—unsuccessfully given the mess she looked now. The next ten had been spent trying to find the door.

“Not your best idea ever, Kagome,” she groused, once again shifting the fluff. She could barely see in front of her let alone behind her.

And really, it wasn’t. Once the shock of seeing someone she had never expected to see again had worn off, she had turned into a mad woman. And not even she knew why. The only conclusion she could reasonably come to in her head was that the last ten years locked on this side of the well had been lonelier than she had realized, and it was enough to bring out her crazy and pit her against the Lord of the West for his own property.

“I’m not lonely.” Kagome spit fur out of her mouth and pursed her lips, using her chin to push down the mound of white currently blocking her view. She wasn’t prepared for tears to obscure her vision also. “I’m not.”

 _I am_.

Her vision cleared a bit as the tears rolled free, and she sniffled. She was lonely. She had been since the day the well locked her out and separated her from her friends and the only people who would ever understand what she had been through. And it was enough to make her desperately fight to try and hold onto the unexpected discovery of a small piece of that time, even if it was to her own detriment.

She cringed and clenched her eyes shut. “Oh gods, I am crazy.”

“Foolish, perhaps.”

Kagome screamed at the sound of a painfully familiar voice behind her and jumped, but her foot got caught in the dragging end of the fur wrapped around her legs.

She pitched forward, and there was no way to break her fall. Her arms were tangled up in the pelt as much as the rest of her body, and there was nothing to prevent her from cracking her skull against the pavement.

But just before her face made contact with the sidewalk, an arm snaked around her and pulled her upright. And she didn’t quite know what to make of that.

Her eyes widened as she was caught under the ribs, though she couldn’t see much more than fluff, and her heart raced. She could feel him, pressed close to her back with only his pelt as a barrier between them, and the razor-sharp tips of deadly claws pricked at her skin.

The instinct to run took over.

Kagome lurched, intent on getting away, but he must have felt her coil to move before she managed because his grip tightened, and the breath rushed out of her.

“ _Tch.”_

Panicked, clammy hands scrabbled through the impossible mass of fur and pulled at the arm holding her in place. “Let me go!” She stomped her foot as hard as she could, feeling her heel come down on a shoe and scratched again at the arm around her. “Let me—”

“Calm yourself,” he ordered sternly, and Kagome froze.

His other arm had joined the first, and she could feel his breath blow across her ear as he spoke. It was enough to startle her out of her panic. Before she realized it, she was doing what he had said, and her body relaxed somewhat in his grasp.

“That is better.”

Kagome’s pulse raced. Everything around her was sharper. Keener. Though she couldn’t see much beyond the pelt wrapped around her, she could smell more, hear more, and _feel_ more than she had before he had surprised her.

She closed her eyes and willed her breathing to slow.

His arms were like iron, but he wasn’t hurting her. Their grasp was firm, not restrictive, and he loosened them gradually, understanding without her telling him that too quickly would land her back on her face.

Unconsciously, she tilted her nose down into the pelt as his grip around her continued to ease. The forests. It smelled like the forests from long ago. Pine, cedar, and…

“Hinoki wood,” she whispered. “You always smelled like hinoki wood.”

“Hn.”

She blushed a bit then, not quite sure why she said that aloud, but she could’ve sworn she heard a smile in his voice.

The arms holding her in place finally let go and began the process of untangling her from the pelt, and she didn’t fight him as he did.

“Spin to your left.”

Kagome did as he said, and the pelt loosened more.

It took a few more minutes of unwinding, twirling, and stepping over things, but at last the pelt slid free of her body.

She felt bereft.

Biting her lip, she looked at the ground. She sniffled again, and her vision once more began to blur. It was stupid. She knew it was. They hadn’t even been close—like, _at all_. But it was something. And now, it was gone too.

Willing her tears back, Kagome finally looked up and really looked at him for the first time.

The pelt was bunched loosely in his hand, the rest of the long mass spilling onto the ground. He hadn’t changed much. Not really. She dared to meet his eyes and search his face, trying to note any changes. His markings were hidden—whether by makeup or magic she wasn’t sure. He looked a little older, but still young. Still fresh.

Still handsome.

Kagome glowered internally. _Of course, he’d do what all men do and just look better as he aged._

The modern clothing took her aback somewhat, even though she’d seen him in it earlier. Then, she’d been too preoccupied to really take note of it. But surprisingly, the charcoal slacks and navy button up fit him. He didn’t wear a tie, and the collar was unbuttoned. Casual.

She looked down at his sleeves and noticed they also had been loosened and rolled up.

But the biggest difference was his hair. It was still long, though it was shorter than it had been. Instead of sweeping down past his knees it was cropped just below his shoulder blades and held back in a low tail.

Suddenly, she regretted running out the house in jeans and a loose t-shirt with her hair high on her head in a ponytail.

“Miko?”

“Kagome,” she automatically corrected, not thinking. She cringed internally when she realized it. But it didn’t really matter. Not really.

Brushing off her embarrassment, she finally met his eyes again. With an awkward smile, she simply shrugged. “Hi, Sesshoumaru.”

It felt strange to say his name again.

A small smile pulled at his lips, barely lifting the corners as a single, amused brow lifted. “Hello.”

They didn’t say anything for a minute, simply observing each other. Kagome resisted the urge to bolt but crossed her arms over her chest, the protective gesture somewhat mollifying her unease. Her eyes took in the pristine state of his leather shoes, and she tried to ignore the mud on her own— _oh gods, did it get on his pelt?—_ as she continued to take his put-together self in.

When she couldn’t stand the silence anymore, she ducked her chin, and the first thing that came to mind blurted out.

“You look good.” She felt her face heat and quickly waved her hand in front of her in some nonsensical motion, trying to explain away her statement. “You know. Not old.”

_Cringe. That is completely and totally cringe-worthy, Kagome._

She chanced a peek back up at his face, and what she found wasn’t what she expected.

His lips were pursed, the tight line of them fighting—failing—to suppress a smile. His cheeks hollowed slightly as he did, and she noticed, not for the first time, the fine structure of his cheekbones. The high arch set off eyes that had once been too exotic for words, now softened even with their unique color by a rounded pupil.

She frowned.

It was wrong. His face without the markings, his wrists without the stripes, his eyes too like hers…it was all _wrong_. Too human. And Sesshoumaru was anything but.

Kagome stepped forward. She didn’t know what possessed her for the second time that day to let her actions with him be bolder than she would have ever dared in the past. But her hand reached out and traced the fur she had run off with right under his nose.

This. _Him._ They were the link to her past she needed and craved. It didn’t matter that they hadn’t been close. Didn’t matter than there had been a time she feared him.

Her fingers wrapped in the pelt as the evening breeze picked up, and the scent of hinoki wood once again washed over her.

She closed her eyes.

There was a memory, a rare moment when it had been just them alone together. And it was _so_ ironic. At the end, they had found themselves back where they’d started—back in the belly of a demon. Only this time he was her protector and not her enemy.

He had fought with her. _Searched_ with her. And when he picked up on where those they had lost were waiting, she had grabbed that same pelt in her fingers, clinging to it with all she had as he soared through what could have easily been hell.

Only there was hinoki wood and the forests.

She hadn’t realized she remembered that much of him until today.

The sound of him clearing his throat brought her back to the present, and she opened her eyes to find his still on her, his head tilted somewhat as he watched her.

Considering. Relaxed. _Curious._

And that’s when she realized she had nothing to lose.

Kagome swallowed, steeling her reserve as she took another step forward. “You can have this back”—she gripped the silvery fur in her fist, refusing to let go—“after dinner.”

His eyes narrowed. “Is that so?”

Her palms sweat and her arms trembled, but Kagome lifted her chin and met his steely gaze. “Yes.”

“Hn.” His head tilted further, and he plucked the pelt from her grasp.

Her fingers, like jelly from her nerves, let it go against her will. The fur slid from her grasp, the soft plushness of it slipping through her fingers as it returned to its owner. She watched with no small amount of panic as he settled the fur back over his shoulder where it was always meant to be. The modern clothing did nothing to detract from the _rightness_ of how it looked there once again on him, and the cold reality of its loss sank straight to the pit of Kagome’s stomach.

_I can’t…not again._

When he turned to walk away, she almost broke. That sinking feeling—that ice rooted too deep to bail out on her own—threatened to take over, spreading over her chest until the cold fingers of its misery clutched at her throat.

And it would have broken her then. It would have swallowed her whole and left her with the unbearable knowledge that a remnant was left but that she was still alone.

Except that he didn’t let it.

Sesshoumaru stopped ahead, peering back at her over his shoulder.

“Your place or mine?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by a prompt dropped by Mythicamagic - Random fic idea 401: Mokomoko is on sale at an auction.
> 
> And then several others stepped in and encourage the madness. :)
> 
> Enjoy! And your comments are always appreciated. <3


	2. Chapter 2

It should have been stranger than it was to have him in her family’s home, but as things stood, the only thing Kagome really felt about it was relief.

“You can set that down wherever you want,” she said, tossing her housekey on the console. She flicked on a lamp and let the soft orange light cast its glow around the entryway before turning back to him and giving a small shrug, smiling slightly. “Everyone else is out of town.”

Sesshoumaru nodded his acknowledgement and stepped out of the shadows near the doorway into the lamplight, eyes slowly taking in the main living area as he made his way to the couch and let the pelt in question slip from his shoulder.

Kagome watched in silence as he arranged it on the couch, still not quite believing the turn her day had taken. One minute she was in shock over seeing something from an era gone by on display for the world. The next she was a crazy woman in a bidding battle with someone she would have never fought that vehemently in the past, sneaking out of an auction house with said item in her possession. And now? Now the past stood in her living room about to have dinner with her.

“Thanks for coming.” She reached up and tightened her ponytail, desperate for something to do with her hands as the still too-human eyes looked back at her. “You know, even though I ran off with your—” She paused and cocked her head to the side, nose wrinkling as her eyes slid to the pile of fluff on the couch. “Actually, I really never knew what that was.” She turned her attention back to him. “What is it?”

“My tail.” Elegant hands nonchalantly smoothed over the front of his charcoal slacks before glowing amber locked onto her face. “You, Miko, had me chasing my own tail over Tokyo.”

 _Oh,_ she mouthed, color draining from her face. The edges of her vision darkened a bit. _I stole the Lord of the West’s butt…_

Said lord glared a little.

“Yes, _oh.”_

Kagome placed one hand on her forehead as she closed her eyes and braced the other against the console table. That really wasn’t what she had been expecting to hear, and quite frankly, she didn’t think she would have appreciated having a piece of her run off with either.

“Miko?”

“I’m fine,” she croaked out, leaning a bit more heavily against the table. “Really. I just need”—her knees buckled a bit—“a moment.”

“Are you alright?”

Leaning heavily, Kagome finally looked up and laughed. “I’m _fine!_ ” Her voice was too high-pitched even for her own ears. She couldn’t imagine what it was doing to him.

“I do not think—”

“It’s _fine.”_ Without warning, tears began to pour down her cheeks, and she noticed the slight widening of his eyes before she gave up and sank down to the floor, powerless to stop her reaction. Choking back a sob, she pulled up her knees and buried her face. “T-totally _fine.”_

Kagome didn’t expect him to sit down beside her.

“You should perhaps re-evaluate what that word means.”

She turned her head and lay her cheek on her knees to look at him only to find a white handkerchief suspended by her face. Their eyes met for a moment when she glanced up at him, and she wondered at the calm understanding she saw there.

_Maybe he’s lonely too._

With a sniffle, she finally reached up and took the proffered handkerchief. “Thanks.”

Sesshoumaru leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes. “You are welcome.”

Dabbing her face, Kagome wiped away the drying salt trails on her cheeks and tilted her own head back to rest against the wall. Beneath her eyelids, her eyes stung with fresh tears, and a thick lump in her throat threatened to choke her. It was all uncomfortable and overwhelming, and the band-like sensation tightening around her ribs made it all worse.

“Breathe, Miko,” he murmured quietly, and she opened her eyes to find his focused on her. That brilliant citrine she hadn’t seen for a decade blinked slowly, not dropping her gaze, and she could see her reflection in the dark, wide pupils. “It will pass.”

“Is that experience speaking?” She lifted her head then and stretched out her legs, not quite sure why it was so easy to speak candidly with him.

His legs stretched out beside hers. “Perhaps.”

“I’m sorry,” she said, and she meant it.

Sesshoumaru merely shrugged.

They sat in silence then, though for how long she wasn’t sure. And during that time, she kept sneaking quick glances his way. It was still strange seeing him like that—sans markings with his hair tied back and his face almost human. Only his unique coloring stood out.

Without thinking, she reached out and traced his wrist. “What happened to these?”

His line of sight followed hers, and he turned his hand until his palm faced upward. If he minded when she pressed her fingertips to his, her awe over the lack of claws apparent, he didn’t show it. “A simple spell.”

“Oh.” She pushed on his fingers like piano keys, biting her bottom lip as she did. Like everything else, his fingers seemed wrong. They were still long and slender, but they were _wrong_ without the sharply tapered points of his claws.

With a nostalgia that made her question her sanity, she remembered the graceful way they extended the first time they met as he tried to melt her.

_You need therapy, Kagome._

She also needed to cook.

Pushing aside her desire for a complete meltdown and the release it would bring, Kagome stood. “How does _katsudon_ sound?” It would be quick enough to make. She had set the rice cooker that morning, so it would be waiting, and she had just made fresh dashi the day before. Besides, it was comfort food, and she needed comfort food right then.

Sesshoumaru pushed to a stand next to her and nodded, the long, tied-back tail of hair falling over his shoulder as he did. “That is fine.”

“Great,” she said, wiping suddenly clammy palms on her jeans.

It didn’t help much. The sensation of _damp_ wouldn’t go away, and Kagome unconsciously continued rubbing her hands against the coarse material, her eyes glued to his form, looking him over. She knew she was gawking—knew it was rude, but she couldn’t help it. He was something tangible. Real.

Here.

The hollow feeling she had become more than acquainted with since being stranded in her time settled in her chest, and her arms automatically came up to wrap around herself. “Sesshoumaru?”

“Yes?”

His gaze was sharp discerning, and her fingers twitched at her sides. “You…you mentioned a spell?”

A slender brow arched. “I did.”

Clearing her throat, Kagome finally clasped her fidgeting hands in front of her and looked away. “Could you, you know, get rid of it?” Her eyes slid up to his then, the raw vulnerability she felt impossible to hide anymore. “It’s just…it’s been a while and—” She paused, averting her eyes again as she searched for the words she needed.

But they never came. He stood waiting, more patient than she would have anticipated as she struggled to find her voice. Hesitated to reveal just how desperately lonely she was. But in the end, she just looked back at his face and sighed with a tired kind of surrender.

“You don’t have to hide here.” Her voice was small and quiet, even to her own ears. “And it would be nice to see, well, _you.”_

She pressed her lips together then as she glanced up at him from under her lashes and hoped that she hadn’t just pressed her luck.

Sesshoumaru, however, did not seem to mind.

“It has been a long time,” he said, pushing the dark blue sleeves up a bit more, “since I have revealed myself to anyone.”

His scrutiny set intently on her, and she swallowed. “How long?”

“Decades.”

“That is a long time,” she said quietly. She couldn’t imagine what it had been like hiding his nature for years like that.

“Hn.” He closed his eyes then, and she watched the barely perceptible movement of his lips before a rush of youki crashed over her.

Kagome’s breath hitched. The pulse of power she felt should have knocked her back and put her on the floor, but she managed to hold her ground, not once looking away from him. Below the rolled cuffs of his sleeves, dark magenta markings slowly faded back into existence while the blunted fingernails sharpened into the viciously tapered points she had missed. Her heart fluttered with anticipation, and she glanced up at his face to see the markings across his cheekbones reappear along with the familiar indigo moon, its slight tilt just as she remembered it.

_A waning crescent._

The abrupt rise of power disappeared almost as quickly as it had come, and Kagome stepped forward as if in a trance just as he opened his eyes.

Preternatural, reptilian-like gold locked onto her, and she almost shrunk back from the shock of seeing such a stark, predatory gaze again.

“I do not bite, Kagome,” he said, lips twitching in amusement.

She looked at him completely deadpan. “We both know that’s bullshit, Sesshoumaru.”

He chuckled then, the sound unexpected but strangely pleasant, and reached behind his head to release his hair from its clip. “Is it?”

She gave him a look as he shook his hands through the silver mass, letting the strands relax and fall freely after their previous constraint. “I’m going to assume that’s rhetorical.” Though much shorter than it had been in the past, his hair was still long by modern standards and fell just above his shoulder blades.

Pushing aside her previous anxiety, Kagome stepped forward, her curiosity getting the best of her. “You really did cut it.”

Sesshoumaru looked down, observing her as intently as she did him. “It was not practical to keep it so long anymore.”

“No, I guess not.” Her arm felt heavy as she raised her hand, hovering just by his face, and she tried not to dwell on why him cutting his hair bothered her as much as it did. “May I?”

His brows knit slightly, but he leaned forward anyway and was polite enough to not comment on the strangeness of her request.

A quick breath helped her ignore the nervous fluttering in her stomach. She couldn’t remember ever really having knowingly touched him before. But the fur she had found herself surrounded by earlier in the afternoon had been so soft and so silky that she now had an undefinable need to know if his hair was the same or not.

_No, that’s not weird at all, Kagome._

“Kagome?”

She flashed a quick, nervous smile. Then, refusing to overthink things anymore, she carefully let her fingers comb through the long tresses that fell over his shoulder.

It was better than she had imagined. His hair was fine but thick simply due to the sheer quantity of strands, and the heavy weight fell like water through her fingers. And each time it sifted through her fingers, that ancient scent once again drifted faintly past.

“Hinoki wood,” she whispered. The brief smile that flashed on his face made her relax a bit, and she reached up higher, careful not to cause tangles.

“It is strange that the scent of the woods is what you remembered.”

“Maybe not,” she mused quietly, combing through again. “They say scent is the sense most closely tied to our memories.” Her fingertips accidentally brushed the shell of his ear, and she pulled back. “Sorry.”

Sesshoumaru straightened slowly. “It is fine.”

She gave him a wan smile. “I still owe you dinner.” Her nose wrinkled. “And probably a drink now.”

He smirked and didn’t say anything, but his eyes sparkled a bit.

It was enough though, and for the first time since the auction house, a genuine smile lit Kagome’s face as some of the tension melted out of her shoulders. “Come on.” She turned toward the kitchen and motioned for him to follow. “Do you drink wine?”

___________________

Kagome felt like she had fallen into the Twilight Zone.

Oil sizzled as she dropped two panko dredged pork chops into her pan. She idly took a small swallow of her wine, moving the meat around a bit as she did to make sure it wasn’t sticking. The savory scent of cooking pork contrasted nicely with the apple and peach notes of the dry Sauvignon Blanc on her tongue, and she sipped at it again, stealing a sideways glance at her companion as she did.

Sesshoumaru had insisted on helping—whether it was to truly be helpful or simply a need to occupy himself with something to avoid awkward conversation she wasn’t sure. But there he was next to her, using his claws to slice through green onion and strips of _nori_ on a cutting board as he stole sips of wine throughout the process of preparing their meal as she did.

And it was all strangely comfortable.

Draining the rest of her glass, Kagome flipped the cutlets frying on the stove and grabbed the wine bottle “Care for more?”

It was his turn to glance at her from the corner of his eyes, a small smirk pulling at his mouth. “Plying me with alcohol, Miko?” He turned his attention back to slicing, scoring off onion roots like he didn’t have a care in the world. “One might think you had ulterior motives.”

Kagome gaped. _Did he just—_

She thunked the bottle down onto the counter and gave him a little glare. “Alright, who are you and what happened to Sesshoumaru?”

His smirk softened to a quiet smile, but his eyes were far away as he spoke. “Time.” His gaze slanted back to hers. “And yes—to the wine.”

Refilling his glass and then her own, Kagome transferred the meat to simmer for a few minutes in the seasoned dashi and egg mixture before moving to the rice cooker to scoop some of the sticky grain into bowls. “Was time unkind?”

Sesshoumaru turned then, leaning back on the counter. “It was time.” Broad shoulders shrugged almost carelessly as he raised his glass, his lips wrapping around from the narrow aperture to take a sip as he gathered his thoughts. “It simply passes as it does.”

“Not for everyone,” she said quietly.

Their eyes met then, a silent understanding passing between them.

Sesshoumaru inclined his head slightly. “I stand corrected.”

Kagome swallowed then, her throat suddenly too tight, and set to finishing their bowls. Her hands shook as she gripped the spatula to slide their food over the rice, and she had to take extra care not to spill anything.

“When did you know?” Putting the first bowl down, she grabbed her wine and took a large gulp, nearly choking in her desperation to wet her dry throat. “About the well, I mean.”

“Not until the moment you disappeared.”

“Oh.” With a frown, she finished the second bowl.

“They missed you.” He didn’t talk for a moment, looking down into his glass as he swirled the pale liquid. “Every day.”

Numbness took hold of her shoulders without warning. Its oppressive, dull fingers began to trace over her body against her will, razing open the profound loneliness she had struggled with for too long now. It threatened to swallow her again, and for the second time that night, her knees began to buckle.

She caught herself on the counter.

“Miko?”

Head swimming, Kagome closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She dreaded asking but at the same time couldn’t stop herself. “What happened?” Straightening her spine, she ignored the rasp in her voice, and leaned heavily against a cutlery drawer. “To Inuyasha…my friends…yours…what happ—"

“After dinner.” His tone was sharp and his face more severe than it had been all evening, and he didn’t drop her eyes. “Ask me after dinner.”

The dryness in her throat turned to a dull ache as she looked back at him. For a moment he was Sesshoumaru as she remembered him again. But instead of any fear or trepidation, all she felt was the unkind prickle of nostalgia.

“After dinner sounds good,” she said, picking up their meal. It had been ten years. She could wait a bit longer.

Sesshoumaru’s features relaxed, and he reached over to take the bowls from her. “Let me.”

It was almost a relief to relinquish the food to his hands. He took the bowls, and before following him to the table, Kagome went to the refrigerator and pulled out another bottle of white—a Riesling this time.

She reached in a drawer and snatched a corkscrew. “How’s your alcohol tolerance?”

The small smirk she was becoming more and more accustomed to came back.

“Bring it.”


	3. Chapter 3

Kagome didn’t bother turning on the overhead lights as they sat at the kitchen table and instead flicked on the Tiffany lamp sitting by the window that had been in her family for years. The colored, patterned glass was cozy, casting a subdued glow better suited for quiet conversation and catching up. It was just enough to see comfortably without leaving either of them feeling exposed, and on a whim, she grabbed the small mosaic hurricane lamp sitting beside it.

The candle lighter made a quick _snap_ as she depressed the trigger to light the wick, and she chanced a glance at him. “Is it weird if I say I’m glad you’re here?”

Sesshoumaru set a bowl in front of her and pulled out her chair as she sat the lamp in the center of the table. “No more than finding myself glad of your company.”

“Thank you,” she said, letting him seat her. A faint heat rose in her cheeks, and she found herself grateful for the soft lighting and warm amber and red hues emanating from the hurricane holder. She couldn’t remember a time when any man had helped her into her chair—not even on a date.

_He would have good manners._

She waited for him to sit and then stole a quick drink of her wine before picking up her chopsticks. “So, if you don’t mind me asking, how did your tail end up in an auction house?”

“That is a mystery even to me.” Like her, Sesshoumaru sipped more wine before turning his attention to his dinner. “It was separated from me in 1945 after the bomb was dropped.”

Kagome’s chopsticks clattered onto the table, her eyes widening. “You’re one of the _hibakusha?”_

“I am,” he said quietly. Picking up his wine again, he looked almost angry as he took a drink from it. “Hiroshima. I became separated from mokomoko when I had to flee the city.”

Tears burned behind her eyes, and she quickly took a bite, taking her time to chew until she had once again had control of her emotions. “Mokomoko…isn’t that what Rin called it?”

A fond smile warmed his features. “It is.”

Smiling back weakly, she felt her resolve to not be emotional slip away. “Were you”—her voice stuck in her throat—“were you hurt?”

The sudden raw look in his eyes cut her to her core, and she watched the muscle in his jaw tighten as he looked back at her.

“Yes.”

She felt sick.

Across from her, Sesshoumaru reached up and undid the two top buttons of his shirt. “Radiation poisoning. I fled to the forests, but it was too late.” He pulled aside the material to expose his upper right side.

Kagome’s hands flew to her mouth. “Oh, gods.”

This time the tears didn’t stop. Below his clavicle, right underneath the long, magenta marking parallel to the bone, a shining scar the size of a dinner plate wrapped from his chest to his shoulder.

He carefully rebuttoned his shirt. “Centuries of battles.” His eyes didn’t leave hers. “With the exception of regaining my arm, this was the first to scar me.”

Tears streamed down her cheeks, and she didn’t trust herself to speak. This was _Sesshoumaru—_ steadfast and dauntless _Sesshoumaru._ Even a decade later she remembered the force of his power and how terrifying it could be. And he hadn’t escaped uninjured.

She shook her head. “I can’t imagine.”

A bitter sound escaped his throat as he reached for his wine. “Do not try to.” His eyes met hers again. “You do not want to.”

“I’m sorry.” She didn’t know what else to say.

“It is past.”

They didn’t say anything for a while after that. They both sat buried in their wine glasses, him trying to regather his thoughts while Kagome resisted the urge to throw all etiquette aside and launch herself over the table to hug him—previous lack of friendship be damned.

She didn’t pick up her utensils to eat again until he did.

“What did you do after the well returned you to this time?” He took a small, neat bite, seeming to test his appetite after the difficult turn in conversation.

Kagome swallowed a bite and then dabbed at her mouth with a napkin, stalling. “Cried.” She watched as Sesshoumaru stopped eating to listen, the dark amber of his eyes flickering in the candlelight. “Crawled into bed and refused to get out until Mama dragged the blanket off of me.”

“You were young.”

The edges of her napkin frayed between fidgeting fingers as she nodded. “I was young.” She glanced up then, trying not to smile. “Still am—especially in present company.”

To her surprise and pleasure, his lips twitched as he picked up his wine again. “Very funny.”

She gave in and grinned. “I thought so.”

He watched her over the rim of his glass, narrowing his eyes a bit, but she could see the upturned corner of his mouth.

Feeling a bit lighter, Kagome dug back into her food. “Anyway, life pretty much became boring. I finished school. Went to college—“she swallowed and used her chopsticks to point to their surroundings—“and then failed at moving on.”

“You work here at the shrine?”

“For the last three years.” She held out the bottle in silent offer, which he accepted. “Right after graduating I tried to hold down a job in my field, but it turns out I couldn’t bear to be far from here. I moved back.”

She thanked him when he refilled her glass.

“What did you get your degree in?”

“Architecture.” Her look grew wistful. “I wanted to bring out more traditional aesthetics in neighborhood design. It feels anymore like we’re losing too much to modernist values.” She paused then, fighting the bashfulness that rose at the admission. Not once had she shared that with anyone.

He wasn’t looking at her. “Why do you think you chose that?”

“I miss the village,” she answered honestly. “The look, the smell. The sense of community.” Her fingers tapped at her glass. “It seemed worthwhile to bring pieces of that back.” She laughed then, the sound more nervous than she’d have liked, and wiped her eyes. She missed her old job more than she had thought. “Sounds silly saying it out loud.”

“Not at all.” Sesshoumaru was mimicking her own movement now, his claws tapping against the clear crystal in his hand. The resonating sound it produced was pleasant.

“What about you?”

The small smirk came back. “Currently?”

Her own lips began to stretch wide, and the thought that this was all unpredictably comfortable flashed through her mind. “Currently.”

“I am an architect.” He raised his wine to his lips, ignoring her flabbergasted look. “And you are right. The past is too easily lost to modern design.”

He took a sip, arching a brow as he did.

Kagome just stared. “You’re not joking?”

“Why would I jest about my occupation?”

With a shake of her head, she braced her elbows on the table and leaned in. “So, I run off with your tail, you don’t kill me for it, and now you’re telling me we have something in common?”

“It would seem that way.”

She stared at him a moment longer and then sat back, giving him a wry look. “Sesshoumaru, five hundred years ago, you could have been a lot more fun.”

His deep baritone echoed when he chuckled as he sipped, and she watched his shoulders relax.

He needed this too.

Finishing the last few bites of her food, Kagome let herself sink more comfortably down into her seat. “Observation?”

“What is that?” The legs of his chair scraped against the floor as he pushed his chair back, settling back to stretch his long legs out in front of him. The wine glass never left his hand.

Kagome didn’t respond at first, taking him in instead. He was a paradox—a remnant of the past wrapped in the cloak of the present. The modern attire did nothing to disguise the exotic features of his heritage. As a matter of fact, it probably made his _otherness_ stand out more. But as he casually sat across from her, sipping wine just as she did, she realized he had adapted over time.

Perhaps better than she had.

“You’ve changed,” she finally said. Motioning to his bowl, she stacked it in hers when he nodded in confirmation of her silent question and then stood to take the dishes to the sink.

Sesshoumaru stood as well and followed her. He braced his hip against the counter and held her wine glass out to her after she set their bowls and utensils to soak. “Is that so unexpected?”

“I don’t know.” Kagome accepted her glass and took a long sip, eying him curiously. “I think right now I’m still reeling a bit from the unexpected. Yesterday, you all were…” She trailed off, the gut punch that was heartache suddenly stealing her breath. Her hand started to shake, and she set her glass back down, swallowing back the knot that formed in her throat.

Sesshoumaru seemed to understand where her thoughts had turned and stepped closer, his tall form looming over her in the low light. When she wouldn’t look at him, one knuckled reach out and tipped up her chin. “We were what, Miko?”

“Dead.” She choked on the word as she said it, tears once again welling up as she looked at him. His eyes searched hers as hers did his, and though his were dry, she saw the same anguish she felt deep in the golden depths.

“I think,” he said, releasing her chin, “that you had some questions you wanted answers to.”

Kagome felt herself nod, but inside she was screaming. _No, I don’t want to know anymore. I don’t._

“I…” Her hesitation tasted bitter on her tongue.

“Closure is a necessary step toward healing, Kagome.” His voice was quiet, the experience that only grief brought evident in its tone, and his look hardened. “Do not run from it.”

“I want to run from it,” she whispered. Everything was suddenly too raw and open, and the visceral reaction she felt to a conversation that hadn’t even yet taken place threatened to bowl her over. “I don’t want it to be—”

“Real?”

She paled, licking her lips. “Yeah.”

“It is already real, Miko.” His face softened a bit. “You just have not yet defined for yourself what that is.”

A nervous hand reached up and dash through her ponytail, the other pressing to her mouth as she struggled for control. Sesshoumaru was right, and it wasn’t going to get better if she avoided what she wanted and didn’t want to know.

Pulling at the hem of her shirt, she took a deep breath and then disappeared into the fridge. When she stood, he cocked his head, eyes narrowing in amusement.

Kagome glowered a bit. “I’m not having this conversation without cake.” She wrenched the cutlery drawer open harder than necessary and grabbed two forks, half of a strawberry and vanilla cake balanced precariously in her other hand. “Don’t judge.”

Sesshoumaru smirked and grabbed their half-empty bottle of Riesling. “Outside.”

_________________

“Why are we here?”

The well house was dark except for the light of the full moon streaming through the open doors. The silvery beams fell on the lifeless time portal, illuminating the ancient wood in the blackness, and Kagome felt the tell-tale signs of despair thickening in her throat.

“Because you must say goodbye.” Sesshoumaru took her wrist and let her brace against his, helping her ease down to the steps while she balanced the cake in her hands. “And this is the only place you can.”

He sat next to her.

“Goodbye?” Kagome placed the cake between them, watching as he propped his elbows on his knees.

He raked his claws through his hair, a heavy air about him as the platinum strands fell over his shoulders, hanging like a curtain as he leaned forward. Then, he turned his head, looking at her before letting his eyes drift to the well and back. “They are here.”

A wave of heat washed over here, spreading up her neck and over her face. “ _What?”_

Sesshoumaru’s head tilted toward the well, but he watched her face carefully and said nothing else.

Kagome couldn’t breathe. For a moment, she simply stared back at him, a distressed, _aching_ shock on her face as she digested what he said. When his gaze didn’t waver, the truth of what he had said drilling into her through his refusal to look away, she raised shaky hands to her temples, massaging lightly to fend off the sudden headache that bloomed. It took everything in her to keep the unbidden tears confined behind her eyelids.

“Miko, are you alright?”

Her voice quaked. “Tell me what happened, please.”

“Nothing tragic. In the end, they all had found peace and lived good lives.”

He sounded reassuring—gentler than normal. If he was struggling, he kept it under tight control. She, on the other hand, gave up trying to maintain any semblance of having it together and picked up a fork.

“Sango and Miroku?” Kagome asked, shoveling a frosting-laden bite in and not caring about her manners. She ignored the amused look he sent her way.

“The monk and the slayer married. Had children—five.” Sesshoumaru took up the other fork and gouged a small bite out of the cake, snagging a strawberry with it. “They and their family remained in the village as its protectors until they day they both passed.” The fork disappeared behind his lips, and he chewed for a moment, his eyes on the well. “The older miko…Kaede…she passed peacefully in her sleep three years after you disappeared.”

Kagome’s eyes burned, and she hid her sob behind another mouthful of the confection, chasing it with a swig of the wine straight from the bottle.

“She is buried on the south side of the well. The monk and the slayer are on the east.”

Her tears fell freely now, and she didn’t bother to hide them. She didn’t bother to hide _anything._ Like a mad woman she dug into the cake, taking too large bites while his were small and neat.

_I don’t care. He has enough manners for the both of us right now._

Their silverware clanked together, and she looked up and managed a wan smile—a smile which turned to shocked disbelief when he stole the cake right off her fork.

“Hey!”

He chuckled around the pilfered bite and then lazily licked the metal tines clean. “You were becoming too serious.”

Grumbling she stabbed at the cake and shoved it in her mouth, not bothering to finish chewing before she spoke. “You’re one to talk. And it’s not exactly a light conversation.”

“No, but you do not need to lose yourself to grief.” He gave her a meaningful look. “They lived happily, Miko.”

Kagome looked away, tears blurring her vision again. “Maybe, but I wasn’t there for them.” A small sniffle escaped, and she hid her mouth in her hand before turning back to face him.

Sesshoumaru put his fork down and stretched his legs out before leaning back to brace on his arms. “None of you were given the opportunity to say goodbye. It grieved them then as much as it grieves you now. But you were always held close in their memories.”

“I wish they had known how much they stay in mine.”

“They never doubted that you would remember them,” he said quietly.

She didn’t know how to process that and dragged her knees up to her chest, laying her chin atop them as she hugged them close. “I hope not.” Turning her cheek to glimpse him, she sighed as the scent of her worn denim blended with woods from her past. “I think I know why you seem so different now.”

“Oh?” Not looking at her, he picked up his utensil again and dug into the cake. “And what is it you have discovered, Miko?”

There was a slight challenge in his voice so reminiscent of before that Kagome almost laughed, but it was simply that: a challenge. And underneath of it she could sense his own curiosity.

She smiled sadly. “You’re not angry anymore.”

Sesshoumaru paused mid-bite, shoulders tensing. Minutes ticked by like they were hours, and she waited, her own nervous tension escalating with each passing moment, while he said nothing. Her breath came more shallowly, the darkness of the well house suddenly more daunting. More overwhelming.

She swallowed. “Sesshoumaru?”

The fork slid from his mouth, and he carefully licked his lips clean, still not looking at her. “You are not incorrect.” His shoulders relaxed, and he dug out another strawberry, brows knit as he dealt with whatever it was going through his mind. “I was angry.”

He didn’t say anything else, and Kagome didn’t push it, turning her attention once again to the dessert. There was only about an eighth of the cake left, and she suddenly dreaded the moment its distraction was gone. She picked up the wine and took another drink.

“Who’s buried on the west side?”

Something unrecognizable passed over his face, and he reached over and plucked the bottle from her hands, sipping from it just as she had with his eyes fixed on the well. “Rin. Her husband with her.”

“Oh.” The image of the happy child who was never far from his side filtered into her mind’s eye. She remembered a sweet, fearless girl—one the great daiyoukai would do anything for. “I’m sorry.”

Sesshoumaru took another drink and gave a quick shake of his head. “She was happy. Loved.” He handed the bottle back to her.

“Who did she marry?” she asked, taking a drink again.

“Jinenji.”

Kagome spit her wine, managing to turn her head just in time to avoid him and the cake. Tears sprung to her eyes from the exertion and she swiped her hand over her mouth, trying not to choke. “ _What?”_

His smile was wry as he watched her. “Your reaction and mine were not so dissimilar.” His eyes softened as he looked back to Rin’s resting place. “It was the only time we ever truly fought.”

Her own lips twitched. “Looks like she won.”

He scoffed, but there was a smile on his face. “She played dirty.”

Laughing, Kagome followed his line of sight and smiled just a bit bigger. _Good for you, Rin._

They just sat then. The cake and wine went untouched, and for a while no more words passed between them. It was just dark and silent, but the silence was companionable and the darkness not so oppressive with company, even in the presence of ghosts.

She had just begun to think about how peaceful it all was when, without warning, Sesshoumaru stood and extended a hand to her.

“Come.”

The peaceful feeling left quickly as it came, cold dread seizing her spine. “I’m not ready.”

His eyes didn’t leave hers. “You are.”

“I’m not.” But even as she said it, she was reaching up. Her hand slipped into his, and she stared at the sight of her smaller one against the larger span of his. The claw-tipped fingers that had once sought to end her were no less imposing than she remembered, but the fear they previously inspired in her was gone.

“I—” Her voice shook.

His hand wrapped around hers, and there was strength and warmth. “You are not alone.”

Then, before Kagome realized what was happening, Sesshoumaru pulled her up, hooked his arm around her, and leapt _into_ the well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope everyone is safe and well. Comments/ reviews are appreciated! <3


	4. Chapter 4

Kagome forgot to breathe.

The borehole of the well was pitch-black. She didn’t know how fast and couldn’t tell how far they fell, but a rush of adrenaline flooded her veins, her eyes slamming shut as her heart pounded against her ribs. It was devoid of light, too quiet, and only the rustle of their clothing whispered in her ears as they plunged. It had been years since she’d flung herself into the dry depths, and without the magic to guide her, it was like sinking into the void all over again.

The thought made her hair stand on end.

Without a thought to it, Kagome threw her arms around Sesshoumaru as the darkness swallowed them. It was different than jumping with Inuyasha. He smelled different, felt different. The ribs encased in her death grip were broader, and the muscle that flexed against her was harder. Only the subtle tightening of his hold was something she recognized, and she took a small measure of comfort in the familiarity of the gesture as they continued to fall.

Their plummet to the bottom could have only been a matter of moments, but time stretched those out even without the aid of magic.

Youki suddenly flared and slowed their descent, and she stiffened.

“Miko?”

Kagome took a deep breath. “I’m fine. It’s just been a while since I’ve felt that.”

He didn’t respond, but she felt the otherworldly scorch lighten somewhat, and she instinctively tightened her arms around him. “I’m okay. Really.”

Their feet touched earth, and his youki subsided.

Shivering as his grip loosened, she didn’t let go, still unable to see anything. “Why are we here?” Her voice was cracked, her throat dry. Fear mixed with dread, and she nearly sighed in relief when his arm settled more firmly around her.

“You know why, Miko.”

The arm around her squeezed a bit more, and she felt the familiar burn of tears spring forth, but she stubbornly held them at bay. “To say goodbye?”

“Yes.”

_This still hurts him too._

Sesshoumaru didn’t speak and simply stood with her. In the darkness, Kagome could feel the burden of the past weighing on him, and she took a shuddering breath, letting her head rest against what she assumed was his chest. She couldn’t see his face—couldn’t even see her own hand in front of hers—and touch was one comfort she could give.

She hadn’t expected the sound of his heart and sighed. It was…soothing.

“Was he happy?” she finally asked. Grief razed her open with the question, and she clenched her eyes shut again, trying to stay the tide surging behind her closed lids. She wouldn’t cry again. Not here. Not now. Not against Sesshoumaru’s nice shirt.

“It was difficult for him at first, but he eventually learned to move on.”

“Did he ever get married?” She didn’t relinquish her hold on him. _That_ hurt to think about it even though she desperately hoped he had found that joy in someone.

“Four years after you were taken from him.” Sesshoumaru shifted but didn’t let go. “He became close with a young woman from the village. Suna. They had four children.”

She heard him pause and swallow, and she waited for him to continue.

“They rest together here beneath our feet.”

Blood rushed in her ears, and she gripped his arm. “ _What?”_

“He is here.” The arm around her turned comforting rather than protective. “It is what he wanted.”

She couldn’t hear him anymore. _He’s always been here?_ Her knees shook, the trembling sensation becoming too much.

Her knees buckled under her.

Sesshoumaru’s other hand shot under her elbow to brace her. “Easy, Miko.” 

Easier said than done. It felt like the world had fallen out from beneath her feet.

She felt sick.

Kagome tried to warn him but couldn’t. The trembling sensation in her knees traveled upward, taking over her, and commandeering her voice. She could feel it begin to travel down her arms.

Her cheeks heated. _How embarrassing._ Not wanting to let on anymore just how shaken she was, she released Sesshoumaru’s waist, absently smoothing the wrinkled mess she had made of his shirt before lowering herself to the ground.

 _Inuyasha._ Unsteady hands plunged into the cool dirt, groping blindly through the dark. For what, she wasn’t sure. But as she raked through the soil, she felt the overwhelming reality sink into her bones and hold her in its vice-like grip. And as the weight bore down on her, Kagome leaned forward and rested her forehead upon the graves. _It wasn’t supposed to be like this!_

A paralyzing numbness had started to prick at the tips of her fingers where they remained buried in the earth when she felt Sesshoumaru kneel beside her and cover her hand with his own.

“Sesshoumaru?”

“Here.” Something she couldn’t identify rasped over his vocal cords when he spoke, making his voice rougher. But he cleared it away like it had never been there and guided her hand to the right. “I buried him here.”

He pressed her palm into the dirt.

Underneath his, her hand began to tremble again. “You buried him?”

“Miko"—centuries of pain bled into his touch—“I buried all of them.”

 _Oh, Sesshoumaru._ Kagome closed her eyes against this new pain as her flesh bit into the cold beneath their fingers. _This_ was not the reunion she had been expecting.

“There used to be so much magic,” she whispered, her fingers flexing underneath his. “I had thought…hoped.” Her shoulders sagged in defeat. “I had hoped.” Even though it was dark, she turned her face toward him and smiled weakly. “Is that stupid?”

“No.” There was a soft swishing sound, and she realized it was his hair as he shook his head. “It is not stupid.”

Kagome let out a bitter laugh and almost lost her fight against her tears. “Then what is it?”

For a moment, he didn’t answer, but when he did, it knocked the breath from her.

“Bereavement.”

She began to shake again. Ten years. For ten years she had been in a state of mourning, but she had never fully acknowledged it for what it was, always clinging to the hope that one day the magic would return and so would she. But that wasn’t what happened. Instead, she had spent _ten years_ existing on this side of the well, unable to accept what was in front of her. It wasn’t fair and it wasn’t what she would have chosen, but it was the reality she had ignored.

No wonder she couldn’t move on with her life.

“Did she love him?” Her breath started to come short, and for the first time since jumping into the well, her voice choked. She slapped her free hand over her mouth, her eyes squeezing shut until she had some semblance of control again. “Sesshoumaru, _please,_ tell me that she loved him.”

The fingers covering hers moved, digging narrow trenches into the ground as he folded his hand more firmly through hers.

“She loved him, Miko.”

The air rushed out of her, relief pushing back some of the heaviness. _He was loved._ And really, she couldn’t have asked for anything else.

She found herself nodding, unable to say anything, and suddenly his hand rubbed vigorously between her shoulder blades.

“Breathe, Kagome.”

The unexpected contact served its purpose. Blue eyes opened wide in the dark, and Kagome greedily sucked in the lungful of air she hadn’t realized she needed while trying to ignore the feeling of her ears warming.

“Again.”

Sure she was glowing in the dark now, she did as he said.

“Good.”

Shoving aside her embarrassment, Kagome pushed up to stand and gladly leaned into Sesshoumaru as he caught her arm and helped pull her up.

“Thanks,” she murmured.

“Hn.”

The familiar, noncommittal noise brought a small smile to her face. Bracing against his biceps, she let him steady her on her wobbly feet and thought for a second how their proximity didn’t seem all that strange anymore. But she supposed a shared grief would do that.

“There is still something you wish to ask me.”

Kagome froze where she stood. His words and the truth in them made her stomach roil with the final dread she knew she was avoiding. But at this point, she also knew that it wasn’t something that he would let her walk away from.

A nervous tongue darted out to wet her lips, and she tilted her chin up, hoping it was his face she looked up at in the darkness. “Who’s buried on the northside?”

It was less than a whisper, her fear of his answer diminishing her courage while she waited to face the last truth she needed.

When he didn’t answer right away, her anxiety peaked and the sick feeling in her stomach with it. It was all too much. The truth, the dark, the smell of freshly turned earth, the feel of it under her nails—it was _too much._

But so was suspense.

“Sesshoumaru?” Unsteady legs propelled her forward, and she curled against his front—boundaries and the past be damned. The last dregs of her courage hung by a thread in the darkness between the past and present, and she couldn’t take it anymore. Her hands clutched at his shirt, her voice desperate. “Who’s buried on the northside?”

She didn’t expect his arms to surround her and pull her closer.

“No one.”

Her breath caught, hope stirring. “ _What?”_

“Your kit is alive.”

Then, before she could ask anything else, he swept her up and leapt from the well.

_______________________

They landed and Kagome stumbled away from him back toward the well.

“Kagome—”

“I need just a minute,” she gasped, reeling from both his revelation and the sudden jump out of the well. She bent and wrapped one arm around her stomach, using her other hand to brace herself against the wood. Shippou was _alive._

Suddenly, arms and legs felt like lead, and she leaned heavily against the well. “I think I need to sit.”

Relief flooded her bones when he took her under his arm and kept her stable as he led her to the stairs to sit.

Mumbling another thanks, her hand grasped his as she bent shaky legs and seated herself next to the forgotten wine bottle. She eyed the dark glass. The smell of fermented grapes wafted out of the opening, teasing her nose with the promise of blissful relief, but she resisted the urge to take another drink.

Sesshoumaru sat beside her, not even trying to hide the smirk on his face.

She scowled. “I know when to stop.”

A single brow lifted in amusement, and he picked up the bottle, putting it to his lips. “Then it is good one of us does.”

When the deep sound of his chuckle echoed in the bottle as he sipped from it, Kagome brightened. _He has a nice laugh. Who would’ve thought?_

For some reason, it made her nostalgic. She brought her knees up to her chest as history shimmered in the dark around them. “This is hard.”

“Why do you say that?” He set the bottle down.

“Everything is different now.” A sound caught between a laugh and a sob stuck in her throat, and she dragged her hands down her face. “They’re dead, and you’re…” She trailed off, not sure if she could finish.

Claws tapped against the bottle as he fixed his attention on her. “I am what?”

Something too difficult to describe pricked behind her eyes, and she exhaled shakily. “Here.” She smashed her fist against her mouth. “ _Alive_.”

Under the cover of night, Sesshoumaru’s expression gentled. “That I am.”

A harsh laugh devoid of humor broke free then, and Kagome wiped her eyes. “Down in the well”—she paused to swallow—"I could hear your heart beating under my ear.”

“Hn.” He flicked a bit of unsettled dust from his sleeve. “Is that so?”

She almost smiled at his nonchalance. “Yes.”

Long legs once again stretched out before him, but he seemed lost somewhere in the obscurity of the old building. “Surprise,” he said, his voice almost tongue-in-cheek.

Her brow furrowed. “Surprise?”

His eyes slid to hers, and he gave her a mock gasp. “I have one too.”

Kagome pressed her lips together, trying not to smile. “I hate to break it to you, but Tenseiga gave that away a long time ago.”

A short, sharp bark of laughter rang out in the small building. “Indeed?”

Snickering, she finally gave in and took a bit more of the wine. “Oh yes.”

They sat in silence then, the wine bottle once again passed between them without words as they each succumbed to their own thoughts. The companionship was peaceful, and she marveled not for the first time that night at the unexpectedness of it all.

Still, after a decade alone and years of wondering about all those she had left behind, there was only so much quiet she could handle. And the new curiosity she found in him was too much to leave to the ghosts.

“What about you?” she asked, breaking the stillness.

Sesshoumaru tilted his head. “What about me, Miko?”

“Did you ever fall in love?”

Memory fell like shadow over his face. It made him look older, the ageless benefit of his heritage not capable of fending off the indiscriminate burden of a long life, and her heart instinctively broke for him.

_He knows too much loss._

Melancholy bled into nostalgia, and he finally turned a peaceful smile to her. “Twice.” He dipped his head slightly. “But that is perhaps a story for another time.

She smiled at that. “You saying I can see you again?”

He stood, grasping her hands and pulling her up. “It would appear so.”

That bit of hope was what she needed. “I would like that,” Kagome admitted quietly.

He pulled her arm through his. “Come.”

The well house doors closed with a soft click behind them, and they walked arm-in-arm, moonbeams weeping with a spectral silence around them as they made their way back to the house.

It was fitting, this hush that swept over them. Behind them, the well lay quiet with the bones of their companions, final goodbyes not yet embedded into the disrupted earth.

She knew she wouldn’t go back until the dust had long settled and returned to peace.

A new kind of grief lodged in her throat as they slipped back into the house. Sesshoumaru set to collecting his belongings and then casually began to gather his hair back into a low tail at the nape of his neck, his clip suspended in his mouth as he did.

Squashing the urge to cry, Kagome watched him, something unfamiliar stirring in her chest as she did. After five hundred years, she had finally gotten a glimpse of him—of who he really was. And after ten years, the loneliness finally wasn’t so heavy.

She didn’t want him to leave.

Sighing, she gave him a wan smile. “I’d offer to drive you home, but we went through two bottles.”

Sesshoumaru chuckled around the clip, pulling it from his mouth to secure the tail. “Your tolerance is impressive.”

“Yeah.” She scrunched her nose. “Probably not something I should be proud of. Can I call you a car?”

“I will walk. I do not live far.” He straightened then, eyes closing for a moment as the spell he used to conceal his nature slipped back into place. When he opened them again, a rounded pupil looked back at her.

She hated it.

Pocketing his keys, Sesshoumaru tossed some cash down on her console and motioned to it. “For my tail.” He gave her a half-hearted glare, the guise breaking into a quiet smile when she laughed. “Thank you for dinner.”

Kagome swallowed, the lightness between them wavering as she fought through the gut punch of the past once again slipping away. “Anytime.” Clearing her throat, she forced the melancholy back. “Really. I mean it. I—I had fun.”

_Don’t leave._

He approached her then, standing only a few feet away as he looked down at her. Studying her. “I did as well.”

Unable to look away from his face—that wrongly _human_ face—Kagome just nodded.

He continued watching her for a moment, and then pulled a pen from his pocket along with a card from his wallet. “Here,” he said, scribbling something quickly on the back.

“What’s this?” She took the card from him, eyes widening slightly. _It’s his contact information._

“Should you require it, you can reach me at that number. As I said, I do not live far.” He took a step toward the door and paused. “Your kit’s number is on the back.”

Her head snapped up. “Shippou?”

“Mm. He lives in the States currently.” His hand grasped the doorknob, his voice quieting. “It is not quite night there yet.”

She stuffed the card in her pocket and left her hand there so he wouldn’t see it shake. “No, I guess it isn’t.” She looked at him meaningfully. “Thank you.”

He simply inclined his head and went to leave.

“Wait!” Not thinking a thing of it, she grabbed his shoulder. “You forgot your tail.”

“Hold onto it tonight.”

“What?” Letting go, her head whipped around to look at the mass of fluff resting on her couch. “You’re serious?”

His eyes were severe. “You have been confronted with a great deal tonight. A piece of the past may be…helpful.”

Kagome just stared, temporarily rendered mute by the oddly kind gesture. But she found her voice quickly enough, choked as it was. “Even after you had to chase me down for it?”

The corner of his mouth lifted. “I think I will survive.” He pulled the door open and then hesitated, his eyes dropping as he warred with his thoughts. His brows knit, and for a moment it looked like he might say something, but then he hesitated again.

She took a step forward. “Sesshoumaru?”

“Dinner.” His eyes slid back up to hers. “Tuesday.”

Kagome found herself nodding without a second thought. Dinner? After years alone? Dinner where she didn’t have to pretend the past didn’t exist? A smile spread over her face. “Just tell me when and where.”

The line of his shoulders seemed to relax then, and he nodded to the card in her hand. “The address is there. Seven o’clock.”

“Can I bring anything?”

He shook his head. “Just yourself.” He turned to go again only to suddenly spin back around. “And my tail.”

He smirked.

She laughed. “Deal.”

There was a quick flash of teeth when his smile broke free, but he squashed it as if it had never happened. “Goodnight, Kagome.”

“Goodnight.” She didn’t pretend to hide her grin. The door closed, and Kagome smiled a little bit bigger as she closed the latch and locked it after him.

_That was…_

She couldn’t even say.

For a minute she just stood there, leaning on the door with her grin still stuck on her face. _Nothing_ that day had turned out as she had been expecting it to. And perhaps most surprisingly, neither had Sesshoumaru _._

Her eyes softened. _I really enjoyed being around him._

Looking up, she caught sight of the mokomoko laying on her couch. Something tingly and warm trickled down her arms as she looked at it, and she walked over, letting her fingers drift across the soft fur.

“I can’t believe he left this,” she murmured to herself. And really, she couldn’t. Almost laughing out loud as their bidding war over the item came to mind, she scratched her fingers along the pelt as if petting it. “Who would’ve thought?”

A sudden blush filled her cheeks, and she pulled her hand back.

“Remember that that’s him, Kagome.” She smoothed the ruffled fur and headed into the kitchen. _I wonder if he can feel when it’s touched?_

The thought stuck in her mind as she pulled out her cell and sat down, but she decided to shake it off. Whether he felt it or not, she knew she was cuddling with it later. The scent of the forests that she desperately missed was too strong and too tempting not to wrap herself up in it as she fell asleep. As she remembered.

Kagome frowned. Later…it would hurt.

She looked down at the card.

Everything suddenly ran hot and cold all at once, and she pressed a hand to her head, willing away the wave of dizziness that threatened to topple her.

_Your kit is alive._

The revelation hadn’t been something she had been able to fully process earlier, and now, in her kitchen, another piece of her past was a mere phone call away.

She flipped the card over and stared too long at the number written there. A quick glance at the clock showed it to be nearly three in the morning. _So about two in the afternoon or so there, so…_

Eyes steeling with determination, she unlocked her cell.

Her hands shook as she dialed, and when she put the device to her ear, she immediately thought about hanging up. But then it rang, and a long, cruel decade spent alone shrank down to the span of minutes as she waited with bated breath for it to be answered.

It rang some more, and Kagome began to give up hope. She sighed. “He’s probably at work. I should—"

_“Hello?”_

She gasped, slapping her hand over her mouth as tears sprung into her eyes.

_“Hello? Someone there?”_

“Sh-Shippou?”

A pause.

_“Kagome?”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story isn't over yet! Still a bit more to go. This chapter was a beast to write. I stared at it, started over, stared at it some more, rewrote bits, and drove a million fanfic friends crazy with bits and pieces that ultimately got edited to get this out. I'm looking forward to moving onto the next bit, lol.
> 
> Thank you for reading. Your thoughts and comments would be greatly appreciated. Here's hoping that the next chapter doesn't take two months to get out! Stay safe, everyone!


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